


Eating In

by Sioux



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-02 10:31:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sioux/pseuds/Sioux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Almost spoilers for series 1 ep 6, Countrycide</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eating In

Eating In  
By Sioux

 

Owen had finished patching up the injured quite a while ago. Tosh disappeared then he and Gwen had left Torchwood after that, letting the hub go to the usual night time quiet. Or not quite. Jack could still hear someone wandering about, rather aimlessly too, he thought.

“Ianto!” he shouted.

No answer.

“Ianto!”

Still no answer. Jack pulled his gun and stalked forward silently. It wasn’t like Ianto not to answer. As he drew nearer he could hear the distinctive swish of the bin bag trailing around across the floor. Jack didn’t think any of the nasties they came across would actually start cleaning the place so he holstered his gun and said,

“Why didn’t you answer me?”

The other man shrugged and continued picking up the detritus from Owen’s practice of his medical degree.

Ianto somehow looked more vulnerable in jeans and his jacket, smaller and more slight than when he was wearing his suit.

“You OK?” Jack persisted.

Ianto nodded.

Jack took one more searching look at the other man; the white square of tape and gauze on his neck was tinged with red where he’d bled through. He surprised a look directed at him. Raising his eyebrows in silent question he received no answer but dropped eyes and Ianto turning his back on him. Pulling a face Jack left heading towards the coffee pot. Returning a few minutes later with two mugs he set them down in the boardroom then went to the Autopsy room. Taking the black plastic bag out of his hands, Jack said,

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Ianto asked, resisting the pull on his arm.

Jack took hold of his hand, immediately noticing how cold Ianto’s skin felt.

“You’re freezing!”

“I know. Can’t get bloody warm in ‘ere,” Ianto replied.

“Coffee, boardroom. Then we can get some supper.” 

Jack towed his unwilling colleague by the hand, feeling the minute tremors which shuddered through his body. Damn Owen, Jack silently cursed, why hadn’t he noticed Ianto was in shock?

Ianto wrapped his hands around the hot drink and sipped, consciously keeping his face averted from Jack.

“So, where do you want to eat?”

“Not bothered.”

“Bellinis?”

“Sort of gone off pizza,” Ianto said, staring into his coffee cup.

“Demiro’s steak bar?” Jack asked mildly, keeping the smirk off his face.

Ianto gave him a filthy look and stood up.

“Calm down Ianto, it was a joke.”

“Not funny Jack. They were going to eat me!”

“Don’t hold it against them,” Jack drawled getting to his feet and invading Ianto’s personal space. “It’s crossed my mind a time or two.”

Ianto was staring into Jack’s face like a rabbit hypnotised by a snake.

“And by the way, next time Gwen asks who was the last person you snogged…”

Giving him plenty of time to move away if he really wanted to, Jack lowered his lips to Ianto’s; his kiss slow, languorous and thorough. Pulling the Welshman close, he worked his thigh between Ianto’s, smiling when he felt the pulse against his leg as Ianto swelled in response. When he pulled back Ianto was breathless, the beginnings of a sexual flush on his neck.

“Don’t forget it was me,” Jack whispered, leaning in to kiss him again, lightly this time.

“So, what do you want to eat?” Jack asked, watching the blue eyes come back into focus.

Taking a deep breath Ianto said,

“You can have your starters here.” And began pressing down on Jack’s shoulders whilst lowering the zip on his jeans.

Jack’s smile lit up the room as he began to enthusiastically undo Ianto’s shirt, as well as his own.

 

Tosh couldn’t take her eyes off the scene in the boardroom; both men naked from shoulder to thigh, Ianto leaning back, his hands on the board room table with Jack’s dark head bobbing at his groin, holding his hips in place. She blinked and rubbed her eyes as Jack surged up and held Ianto tight, both of them seeming to be fighting to get closer to the other, their lips mashing together in sharp, hard kisses. She turned the sound up from the audio feed. Panting and breathless groans became the sound track for the erotic show on the monitor. Ianto clutched Jack’s shoulders, his head falling back and his face screwing up as he shouted,

“Duw hollalluog!”

In contrast Jack was silent, several deep, panting breaths the only sign he’d had an orgasm.

Ianto rested his head against Jack’s broad shoulders, the taller man holding him up.

“You’re bleeding,” Jack said quietly, holding his hand up where it was marked by the trickle of red running down Ianto’s back from his neck.

“It’s fine,” Ianto said softly.

Jack took the gauze off, which was soaked with blood. The steri-strips had come adrift due to the unexpected exercise. He touched his lips to the bloodied cut, the metallic scent unpleasant against the sweet silky taste of the red stuff. Lapping the blood away from the cut, Jack kissed all the way along the edges, feeling the skin knitting together under his lips. Placing one last kiss on Ianto’s neck Jack drew back.

“I’ll get a cloth to clean you up.”

Ianto looked into his eyes, his own sleepy and much calmer. Sweat beading his hairline and across his cheekbones. Ianto offered his lips. The kisses were gentle now and sweet and he could taste his blood in Jack’s mouth.  
Jack’s face was softer, his smile lacking its usual devilry. He stepped back, pulling up his trousers, more to stop himself tripping than through any body modesty, leaving his braces hanging and his shirt off. Slowly Ianto pulled his jeans up and fastened them, then rested back against the table. Jack soon returned with a cloth and a towel.   
Ianto put his fingers to his neck trying to judge if he needed more steri-strips, although the cut didn’t hurt any more. He moved his fingers around, unable to find the wound without the pain to guide him. Then he used his whole hand. He shot a sharp look at Jack, who glanced at him and said nothing, picking up his shirt and taking the wet cloth and towel back to where he’d got them. 

If Ianto was going to freak, now was probably the time. And before they went anywhere else, Jack set himself to remember to go and erase the digital recording from the boardroom camera.

Jack was dressed the second time he came back. He stood in silence watching Ianto slowly doing up his shirt, and pulling his jacket on.

“Tapas?” Ianto asked.

Jack nodded his agreement. The Spanish restaurant was less than a minute away.

Ianto walked ahead of Jack, then turned and said,

“Don’t forget to leave room for dessert.”

Jack’s delighted laughter echoed around the beams


End file.
